#ScottishWriters
As to her child a mother calls, ‘Come to me, child; come near!’ Calling, in silent intervals, The Master’s voice I hear. But does he call me verily?
I am weary, and very lonely, And can but think-think. If there were some water only That a spirit might drink-drink, And arise,
To Jordan when our Lord had gone, His Father’s pleasure willing, He took his baptism of St. John, His work and charge fulfilling; Therein he did appoint a bath
Waking in the night to pray, Sleeping when the answer comes, Foolish are we even at play– Tearfully we beat our drums! Cast the good dry bread away,
Thy world is made to fit thine own… A nursery for thy children small, The playground-footstool of thy th… Thy solemn school-room, Father of… When day is done, in twilight’s gl…
O Lord, at Joseph’s humble bench Thy hands did handle saw and plane… Thy hammer nails did drive and cle… Avoiding knot and humouring grain. That thou didst seem, thou wast in…
How shall he sing who hath no song… He laugh who hath no mirth? Will cannot wake the sleeping song… Yea, Love itself in vain may long To sing with them that have a song…
Come unto me, the Master says:- But how? I am not good; No thankful song my heart will rai… Nor even wish it could. I am not sorry for the past,
I dinna ken what’s come ower me! There’s a how whaur ance was a her… I never luik oot afore me, An’ a cry winna gar me stert; There’s naething nae mair to come…
From out a windy cleft there comes… Of eyes unearthly, which go to and… Upon the people’s tumult, for belo… The nations smite each other: no a… Troubles their liquid rolling, or…
Imagination cannot rise above thee… Near and afar I see thee, and I l… My misery away from me I thrust i… For thy perfection I behold, and…
A quiet heart, submissive, meek, Father, do thou bestow, Which more than granted, will not… To have, or give, or know. Each little hill then holds its gi…
Such guests as you, sir, were not… When I my homely dish with care d… ’Twas certain humble souls I woul… Who do not turn from wholesome mil… You came, slow-trotting on the nar…
O Lord of life, thy quickening vo… Awakes my morning song! In gladsome words I would rejoice That I to thee belong. I see thy light, I feel thy wind;
The croak of a raven hoar! A dog’s howl, kennel-tied! Loud shuts the carriage-door: The two are away on their ghastly… To Death’s salt shore!